


a sparrow, a crow

by coricomile



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-16 12:32:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7268380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coricomile/pseuds/coricomile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A morning in the Crosby (Malkin) household after the second Cup win.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a sparrow, a crow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gyldenstjerne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gyldenstjerne/gifts).



> Written for the Sid/Geno Exchange. Gyldenstjerne mentioned liking domestic/curtain fic and woo boy this became domestic fluff on a ridiculously high scale. Hope you enjoy!

The air conditioning is up too high. Sid shivers under the quilt and scoots closer to Geno, curling around his back to leech warmth from him. Geno's always run just a bit hot, is always the first one to complain about turning on fans, always the first one to trade winter warm pants for baggy, light shorts. He says it's biology, his body made for Russia and not for the finicky, too hot weather of Pittsburgh. Sid doesn't believe a word of it. 

Sunlight peeks in through the crack in the curtains, soft summer yellow, dust motes floating along on the current from the vents in the ceiling. Sid isn't used to being here this late in the year. He's not used to Geno being here this late in the year. The plan had been to stay regardless of what happened in the playoffs, to train and work and make themselves better. To work on living together all year. 

Sid hooks his chin over Geno's shoulder and looks at the championship rings on the nightstand. They shimmer in the sunlight, the endless stretches of diamonds reflecting rainbows on the ceiling and floor. They're just as gaudy as the pair they'd won in 2009, just as massive and unwearable, but Sid thinks that maybe they're better. They stand for something new. They're signs of victory, yes, but they're also the closest thing Sid's going to get to an engagement ring and it feels fitting, even if he knows it's a stupid thought. He won't say it out loud, but he doesn't think he has to 

"Think too loud," Geno grumbles. He pushes his face against the pillows, the long line of his neck stretching out perfectly. Sid presses a kiss to the knobby top of Geno's spine, letting his lips linger there. Geno indulges him for a moment before rolling over, kicking the quilt down to the end of the bed with huffing morning annoyance. Sid grins. He should be tired of this now. He's not. 

"Hey," Sid says, his voice too loud in the silence of their bedroom. 

He traces the curve of Geno's jaw with gentle fingertips, the skin there smooth except for the normal morning stubble. They'd shaved as soon as the first of the hangovers passed and Sid is so, so happy for it. His beard had itched like crazy. He rubs the frozen tip of his nose against Geno's feeling silly and still sleep drunk. This close, everything is blurry. Surreal. 

"You so weird," Geno says fondly. He tilts his head and brings their mouths together, his arm sliding around Sid's back and pulling him in closer. 

Geno's mouth is warm and soft. Kissing him is as easy as breathing. If Geno could, he'd keep them like this forever, making out lazy and unhurried. Sid likes it, but he has the tendency to get fidgety long before Geno's ready to move on. Geno always laughs at him and calls him single minded. He's not entirely wrong. 

For now, though, Sid's happy enough to be rolled onto his back, happy to have Geno lay over him like a particularly heavy blanket. Everything feels fuzzy and warm and Sid pretends, just for a minute, that they can stay here all day, hiding away from the rest of the world. The illusion is shattered by the shrill ring of his phone on the nightstand. Geno groans and thumps his head against Sid's shoulder. He doesn't move and Sid has to struggle under his weight to get enough leverage to get his phone and turn the alarm off. 

"Is summer," Geno whines, curling himself into a sad, sleepy ball. "No alarms in summer." Sid snorts.

"Keep dreaming," he says. 

"Is the _point_." Geno sighs and submits to Sid's prodding, rolling off to his side of the mattress and sitting up. There's a bruise low on his back that's almost completely faded, yellow green and spread wide across his hips, the last remainder of the season on his body. Sid strokes lazy fingers over it before making himself get up. 

He's supposed to go golfing with Mario at some point today and Geno's got a few phone interviews with the Russian press that he's been putting off. There isn't any sort of rest. Not really. Sid thinks that maybe, when they've retired, he and Geno could do something like backpack through Europe. Hopefully they'll be old by then. Sid looks at the rings on the nightstand and smiles to himself. It's not swimming with sharks, but he thinks they'd like it. 

Sid makes breakfast while Geno showers, pulling out the cookie spread Taylor had sent him in her latest care package. He doesn't know why she sends them. She's the one in college. Sid should be sending them to her to keep her fed during finals, but he's got a tendency to forget about it until it's too late. Either way, he's always glad to see the box on his doorstep, Taylor's neat handwriting large on the label sticker. 

She's supposed to come for a visit soon. Geno might be more excited than Sid is, which is saying something. He's already got the guest room set up for her and a summer in Pittsburgh itinerary made up somewhere in his phone. They get on like a house on fire, have since the moment they met, and it makes Sid's chest ache every time he thinks about it. Geno loves him, he knows that, but Geno also loves his sister and that might be more important. 

Geno comes downstairs in basketball shorts and a t-shirt that's gone loose over his post-season skinny chest, phone in hand. He looks a little more awake, but he still falls on the cup of coffee Sid slides towards him. He's shower pink, long hair wild, and Sid laughs at the stupid noise he makes when he takes his first drink. 

"Change mind," Geno says, glowering up at Sid in a way that reminds him of angry kittens. "I go to Russia. Sleep all day."

"Too late," Sid says brightly. "You already agreed to help with the hockey school. Think of all the children you'll make sad." Geno sighs again, but he's visibly brightened at the thought of spending time with a small army of kids. 

They eat breakfast in the kitchen and go over the weeks schedule. Geno pokes at his phone calendar and Sid writes their appointments out on the whiteboard that mostly lives on the fridge. Geno makes fun of him for it, but he'd grown up seeing his whole family's time schedules on a board just like this one and he likes how much it reminds him of home. 

Mario calls when Geno's loading up the dishwasher. He tells Sid he'll be by soon and that Austin's going to be joining them, which is a nice surprise. Sid rubs a hand over his hair and hopes it doesn't look too bad. There isn't going to be time for a shower. He turns towards the stairs, trying to remember where he put his golf bag, but Geno catches him around the waist and tugs him back in. 

"I've got to get ready," Sid says. He pulls against Geno's hands, but Geno just wraps him up tighter, leaning down until Sid's hunched over under his weight. Apparently he's awake enough to be a dick.

"Trade?" Geno asks. "You do interviews and I go golf? Hard work, but I think I can do." Sid pinches him and squirms free. 

"I already do most of your interviews for you. You can suck it up for a couple of days. You don't even have to leave the house." Sid ignores the big eyed, sad look Geno gives him. He's gotten better at it over the years our of sheer self preservation. One of them has to be a responsible adult. 

When he gets downstairs, lost golf bag sling over his shoulder, Geno's camped out on the couch, feet propped up and phone cradled between his ear and shoulder. He probably won't move to do much more than eat, but the interviews will get done and Sid's counting that as a win. Sid drops a kiss on Geno's head and grabs his keys from the coffee table. 

"Go out for dinner tonight?" He asks quietly. Geno waves a hand at him and mumbles something in Russian to whoever's on the line. 

Sid's still grinning when he slides into the front seat of Mario's SUV. Austin gives him a distracted hello, face turned down towards his phone. Sid figures they'll have his attention for maybe one full round before they lose him entirely. Mario glances over at him with raised eyebrows as he backs out of the driveway. 

"You look happy this morning," he says. Sid looks out the window and shrugs. 

"Yeah," he says. "I am."


End file.
